Response Delta
by OCsRuleMyLife
Summary: The continent is broken. Mere weeks after the zombie outbreak, it is presumed that Responses Alpha, Beta, and Gamma have had 100% casualties, and Delta 90%. The military has reorganized into Response Epsilon to attempt to arm civilians and distribute resources, hoping to minimize losses on all fronts. What hope do the lingerers have? (MineZ fic, T for occasional swearing and gore.)


**If you hadn't read the description, this is a MineZ fic. Essentially, the goal was to use the MineZ map and area, as well as incorporating the canon lore, into a singular, cohesive narrative. Note also that it will not feel like Minecraft, reading through, because it is written to reflect the more 'human' aspect of the events in the narrative. Happy reading!**

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Chapter 1: Katrina

_Schlick!_

The steel blade sang through the rotting flesh of the beast, its head tilting away from its body. Carter kicked the back of the torso, letting it fall to the ground, its head lulling backwards and rolling to his feet. He put one sword through its sheath on his hip, lifting his cloak to do so. The cloak was a dark, woody brown, and was designed to be worn over the arms. Over his left breast was a white, triangular crest, with two white rectangular pins below it. He blew some of his brown hair from in front of his deep green eyes, and raised his free hand to access his transmission device.

"Is that the last of them?"

"As far as I can see from up here. These trees aren't nearly tall enough to get a solid view."

"That's good enough for me." Carter wiped his bloodied sword on a vine beside him before sheathing it. There was a soft thump as John landed gently beside him. Carter was about up to John's eyes, which were a dark, ocean-like blue. He lowered his hood, exposing his shorter and neater brown hair, and slid his bow into the slot on his back.

"Have you ever killed a zombie without dismembering it?"

Carter gave a small smirk, shrugging and giving the bloodied head a sharp kick, "Not that I can remember."

"I swear, if I didn't know you better…"

"But you do, so it doesn't matter."

John shook his head, and looked around, "I've lost all radio trace of dispatch. They've been out of visual contact for more than five days. We should assume that they presume us dead."

Carter knelt next to the zombie head to examine it.

"So, what's our next move, then?"

"Hopefully, to head a little farther east and south, towards Kaocho. If my schematics are still accurate, there are three points of civilian resource redistribution within a quarter kilometer of the town. With any luck, we can…"

Carter looked up, "John?"

"We can take a supply train to Grimdale, or at the very least, make some eastward progress."

Carter nodded, and stood up straight again, and John slipped his hood back up over his head. _I just hope that Grimdale is still standing when we get there._ Carter quickly followed suit with his hood, and the two set off south and east, trudging through the boggy mire.

It was slow going, as more than once one of their boots would be sucked powerfully into the mud, and the other would have to reach down to his partner's ankle, grip around tightly, and help to forcibly remove the foot from the sludge. To make matters worse, the bog would often slip away into water just deep enough for even John, who was nearly 2 meters tall, to have to stick his nose vertically to even try to walk. The majority of the time, they swam these short distances, and spent a few minutes drying their armaments properly. If anything, the trip was a grim reminder that using quiet, medieval-style weaponry had some serious drawbacks. For one, it was more cumbersome, per shot, to haul around a quiver of arrows than a cartridge of firearm ammunition. On the flip side, arrows could be reused, and were of much simpler making than bullets. And where combat knives had previously been predominant in military melee, stainless steel swords were a more powerful, and usually favorable, alternative. The main drawback was, again, weight and size. Still, both John and Carter preferred silence and agility to loud, boisterous guns.

Still a little ways from Kaocho, the sun was beginning to set over the vast swamp, casting eerie, writhing shadows through vines and swamp brush. Carter and John both removed their cloaks, using the three swords they had in cumulative to make a lean-to against a dark tree nearby. The town wasn't far, and they likely could have reached it before dark, they surmised, but due to the fact that it was relatively early fodder during the outbreak, it was frequently looted, and not safe at night. So, Carter and John unpacked some of the meager food rations they had left, and each ate an apple before going to sleep.

John opened his eyes into a flurry of snow. _What? Where am I?_ He looked around, standing atop a very tall, snow-covered tree. _Right… Paluster. _A man climbed up through branches behind him, and raised his left fist in the customary salute. "Commander! I have urgent news from Frostbain!"

John turned his head, and shielded his face from the whistling snow, "What is it?"

"The Response Gamma Frostbain Garrison has been routed southwards, sir. We have lost contact with officials inside the city itself."

John turned back towards the howling wind from the north, and gave a small nod. "What are the chances that the routed forces will make it here?"

"We expect a 97% casualty rate, sir."

John's eyes widened slightly, and he used his hand to shield his eyes once again. _No… that's too many. There has to be another way._

"What should we do, sir?"

John lowered his hand, and turned, flipping his brown hood over his head and slipping down through the branches along with the field scout.

"I will take a margin of our forces from the west embankment, and escort the forces from Frostbain the latter half of the way back to Paluster. How many casualties will that reduce?"

The two men reached the bottom of the tree, and the scout scratched the top of his hood nervously, his blond hair falling slightly in front of his blue eyes. "I don't think I'm qualified to give an estimate so quickly, sir."

"Round it to the nearest 10%, then."

The scout took a deep breath. "I imagine that it would reduce the casualties to around 30%, sir."

John nodded, and raised his left fist at a ninety degree angle at the elbow, and the scout returned the salute. "Inform Captain Olaf that he will be rounding out the forces here until I return."

At this, John dropped his salute, and the scout did as well, running off to the southwest-most building in town, which was being used as a military command. John turned towards the west, and headed to take a small force toward Frostbain.

John awoke again under the same brown cloaks and swampy atmosphere that he fell asleep under. He sat up, and looked over at where Carter had fallen asleep. He gave a small smile at the sprawled position in which Carter slept, before standing and picking up his bag. He stepped outside, and looked around to see if he could estimate time. Unfortunately, the sun had yet to rise, and only the small tips of its so-named rosy fingers were creeping above the murky skyline. Instead, he lifted his bow and hitched his quiver onto his belt, and clambered skillfully up the tree their lean-to was on, taking a quick sip from the water in his bag. He scanned his surroundings, assuring that there were no hostiles within visual range. The visibility was poor, so he sat at the top of the tree, extracting an apple for breakfast, and sighing to himself.

By the time Carter had finally emerged from the lean-to, the sun was a notable few degrees above the horizon, though it had not fully emerged. Carter undid the lean-to, draping his cloak over his shoulders and hitching it with two ties at the chest, and climbing the tree to hand John his cloak as well. John nodded his gratitude, and slipped the drape over his shoulders, fastening it similarly to Carter's. His cloak also bore the white triangle on the left side, but had four small rectangular pins under it, where Carter's only had two, and a long bar beneath the four pins. He looked around again, offering some water to Carter, who took a small swig.

"Seen any activity?"

"No. We're less than one hundred meters from Kaocho, and we can't even see it at the moment. It faded into visibility just before sunrise for a few minutes, but even then it was just the nearest building or two."

"We're that close? Who'd have known, through all this fog."

"I had imagined as much, but I didn't want to risk being stuck in town in the dark."

Carter nodded, and stood, balancing ably on a branch. "So, how are we going to do this? Stop in Kaocho, do a routine survivor check, and head to a military point from there?"

"I think so, yes. Kaocho wasn't hit nearly as hard as some places, and was mostly abandoned, not overrun. I think it's worth a look."

Carter slid down the tree expertly, flipping his hood to shield his face from the ever-brighter glare from the fog. "Sounds good to me. Let's get moving early."

"Agreed." John dropped from the relatively short tree, his bow in his left hand. Without much spoken word, they slipped through the mist toward the gloomy town of Kaocho.

The mist lifted quite quickly, and in the few minutes it had taken for them to reach the outskirts of Kaocho, it was nearly entirely gone. As they crept silently through the murk, they partly dreaded the visibility—they were much easier to see in the current weather, and their movement was significantly limited. The city of Kaocho itself was only a tenth of a kilometer from east to west at its longest point, though, and the visibility gave them a distinct advantage over anyone or anything within the town not observing the exterior.

They approached a larger building from the northwest, taking quiet shelter in a tree that seemed to be quite happy with the rapid abandonment and dilapidation of what appeared to be, at one point, some sort of storage building. Suddenly, they heard a splashing sound from the north, just around the corner of the building. Carter and John exchanged glances, and John nocked an arrow, while Carter drew one sword, keeping his right hand free for the moment to slide along the bricks in the wall. They crept along the foundation on the western side, and John took a quick look beyond the corner, before bobbing back behind its safety. He lifted three fingers at Carter, followed by an O with his thumb and index. He then raised a single finger, and afterward cupped his hand into a C. Carter nodded, and drew his second sword, reaching up and pulling himself onto the wooden roof. John began drawing back his bowstring, and mentally counted down from five in his head. At zero, he spun around the corner, firing off an arrow with deadly accuracy between the eyes of a sprinting zombie, and it fell forward, dragging across the ground. Carter had simultaneously leapt from the rooftop, landing on the back of a slower one, slicing its throat, and kicking it forward, ultimately bringing its head clean off. The third zombie was chasing a young girl, dressed in a dirty white dress, with a white mantle over her shoulders, and overly large cuffs at the wrist. Her nut brown hair split into two tails, capped by purple bows, and the fringe on the dress was also purple. She was carrying a crude stick and stone spear, tied together with some vines from a tree. She stumbled slightly, but quickly got back up. However, her shorter legs were no match for the muscular sprint of the zombie behind her, and John nocked an arrow and fired quickly, hitting it straight in the forehead, while Carter snatched the girl's wrist, pulling her away from its collapsing corpse and open jaw.

Carter looked down at the girl, who was about up to his shoulder, "You okay, kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm twelve."

Carter shot a look of slight aggravation at John, who smiled very slightly as he scaled the roof to take a brief glance around.

"But are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. You can let go of my wrist." Carter did so, and picked up and sheathed the sword he had dropped to grab her. His other sword was wiped on the grass nearby, and sheathed shortly after as well.

"Good. What's your name?"

"Katrina. Are you soldiers?"

"Yeah. We can take you somewhere safer. John," He looked up and spoke slightly louder to be heard, "where should we take her?"

John hopped down from the rooftop, and knelt slightly to stay behind the wall, as well as to get a little closer to Katrina's height, "We have a couple options. Did you make the spear yourself, Katrina?"

"Yeah. I killed a couple of 'em with it, too."

"Do you have any idea where you were going, or were you just wandering when you met the ones that we killed?"

"I was trying to get here."

"Do you mind telling us where you came from?"

"Why's it matter?"

"It doesn't, I suppose," At this, Carter tapped John on the shoulder, and motioned him a bit away. John stood, and looked down at Katrina, giving a quick, "wait here."

Carter pulled John a few meters away, near the other end of the building, and whispered facing away from Katrina, "I don't know if we should take her with us."

"You just don't like dealing with her."

"She's annoying."

"She'll die alone. Anyway, we can drop her off at a checkpoint, or we can take her back to Operations. Either way, she'll be with us for a couple of days. Maybe three, tops. She made that spear herself. At least she's pretty smart."

"She's dressed like one of those weird magical things from fairy tales."

"Well, maybe a little magic's what we need right now."

"You can't be serious." John turned away without responding, and began to walk back towards Katrina. Carter followed shortly behind, "You're joking right? John!"

John returned to Katrina, and pulled back his hood to reveal his face, wearing a pair of glasses, and with a light, but even beard. "Sorry about that. My name is John. Do you want to come with us?"

"Where are you going?"

"Grimdale. All military operations have been centered at what used to be the civil capital, so it's safe. Does that make sense?"

"Mhm."

"So, do you want to go?"

Katrina gave a small shrug, "I guess. I don't have anywhere else to go…"

John put a hand on her shoulder with a smile, "It'll be alright. Just trust us."

He turned to Carter, who frowned. "Shouldn't we direct her to a civilian resource redistribution point?"

John frowned, and pulled his hood back up, "Officially, yes. But they'll confiscate her spear to give her a pointy stick and a radio, basically."

Carter grimaced, and stretched, "Alright, fine."

Katrina stuck her tongue out at him, and jammed her eyes shut, leaning forward provokingly. Carter stopped and opened his mouth slightly, looking between John and Katrina with his hands raised to his waist, "What did I do?"

John shrugged and shook his head matter-of-factly, and Katrina crossed her arms and looked away.

Carter sighed, and leaned against the wall, and John opened up his pack. "We should divvy up the food we have left," _There might not be enough for all three of us to make it to Grimdale. I really don't want to have to bring her to a civilian redistribution…_ "Carter, how much do you have?"

"Enough for a day, maybe a day and a half."

"Same." _That won't cut it. We'll need to restock a bit… hopefully some things weren't looted._ John nodded silently for a little while, before giving a sigh, "Alright. It looks like we're going to have to do a brief sweep of the area for a bit of food."

Carter nodded, and looked around. They quickly laid out some general guidelines, and began quietly searching through the residential buildings on the far west of town. Katrina was left sitting on a hay bale in the building they had just moved from, and watched them sneak around, before taking a peek at the bridge in the middle of town. It was all stone brick, and was beginning to moss over from the fertile, boggy water below it. Many bricks had fallen out, and the bridge was largely decaying. She stood, and quietly moved over to the fountain a few meters from the building she was in, kneeling down and cupping some water in her hands, washing her face, and then cupping again to take a drink. She then stood up again, looking around, and seeing John in the upstairs of a two story building directly in front of her. She watched him creep through the hallway, its wooden wall rotted open, with his sword drawn, keeping a quiet eye out for anything else in the hall with him. She turned, and walked back to the building she had started in, and was about to sit down when she noticed it. A small chest, slightly open, and almost hiding in the back of the room.

"Guys, I found a chest!"

Both John and Carter's heads came flying out of holes in walls from the buildings they were in, "Wait, Katrina, it might be a—"

She shrieked as a hand reached out to grab her own, and she quickly severed it with a brisk jab from her spear. She backpedalled toward the fountain, as the now injured zombie crawled out of the chest and sprinted at her. She tripped backwards into the gravel road, and covered her head in fright as the creature dove at her. Before it could reach her, though, its jaw was met by a steel sword, which glided through and lopped off the majority of its head. Carter grimaced at his bloodied sword, and slid it into the ground gently. He reached down to help Katrina up, and she took his hand, giving him a firm tug as she went up, jarring his shoulder a little. He made a face as he walked to the fountain, shaking his head at John, and turning his shoulder in a circle.

When he reached the fountain, he washed off the sword, dried it on his cloak, and was about to sheath it again, when he saw something from the corner of his eye. He raised his sword instantly. There was a quick, but very loud, grating sound as a bullet ricocheted off of the sword blade that he had raised, leaving a sizeable dent. "Sniper! Get down!"

He grabbed Katrina's wrist once again, and tugged her behind the fountain, lying on his stomach, and looking her in the eyes, "Whatever you do, don't leave this spot. Do you understand me?"

She nodded, her eyes wide in fear. He pressed on his headset to speak. "John, where are you?"

"Residential structure, approximately 30 meters south and 10 meters east of your position. Do you have visual confirmation of the sniper?"

"No. I didn't see the muzzle flash directly. Somewhere on the east end of town. Silenced."

John swore quietly, his back against a wooden pillar in the eastern wall of the building. He looked around at his surroundings. The building was terribly ransacked, and the walls to his right and left were falling apart. Directly beside his left shoulder, there was a hole in the wall covered largely by thick leaves from new-growing plants. He pivoted on his left foot, peering through the leaves to attempt to get a visual.

The sniper swore to herself as she pulled the bolt back, letting the shell casing pop onto the stone of the roof beside her. She slid another bullet in, and watched the far end of the town carefully. She was well-concealed by the leaves and branches on the top of this roof, and there were three other buildings nearby that her quarry would be potentially looking for her in. She pulled her scarf down away from her face, and readjusted her brown hood. She looked down the sights of her rifle with an unwavering eye, her blond hair falling in front of her right eye. Her left index finger graced toward the trigger. She waited for a movement. Any movement. She saw a movement behind the leaves in the tall building to the left. She readjusted slightly, aiming for the chimney at the back of the hallway of the same building. If she ricocheted it against the chimney and the wall beside it, it would come back to where the person was hiding. She gave a gentle tug on the trigger, and the muzzle of the silenced rifle flashed, sending a small, deadly metal object flying at incredible speeds.

John ducked when he saw the muzzle flash, and watched the bullet crack the wood just above his head. _A ricochet?_ "Carter, did you see that?"

"No. What was it?"

"An intentional ricochet. Almost hit me."

Carter's head went down too, as a bullet ricocheted straight at him. "Damn, almost got me too. Who shoots like that?"

"I can only think of one."

"But what would she be doing here?"

"Who knows? I only hope I'm wrong. She's got to be above us, the way she's shooting."

"So what are we going to do?"

John looked around, and swallowed, looking at the stairs immediately to his right. They were mostly intact, but the east wall was out for a section of them. If he moved quickly enough and stayed low, just maybe this would work. "Keep Katrina down. I've got an idea." He crept silently up the stairs, sheathing his sword, and pulling out his bow. At the bend in the stairs, he ran up and around, a bullet hitting him painfully in the heel. _Dammit!_ He stumbled up the last few stairs, crawling slowly along the wooden floor, and looking at the wall of this floor. Intact. He got up, and hobbled over to a hole in the diagonal ceiling. He leaned out through the hole, keeping the majority of the roof between him and the buildings on the east end of town. He nocked an arrow and let it fly in that direction, hefting himself up on the roof with his arms, just enough to see where the muzzle flash came from as the sniper blasted the arrow from the air. Then, he dropped back in to the room, and slumped against the wall, unmoving.

"Carter, she's on the roof of the building with the tall chimney."

"We can't go anywhere, she'll shoot us."

"I know. Make a lot of noise. Even though it's silenced, the gunshots have still been exciting some of the zombies that were previously not paying any mind. Shout at them, aggravate them. Get them to chase you. Use them as a meat shield."

"What about Katrina?"

"While you make all that ruckus, send her to the building just west of you. She'll be safer there."

"Okay."

Carter took a deep breath, and drew his second sword. "Katrina, I know this looks bad, but we're going to be fine. You just have to do exactly as I say."

The sniper watched as a group of shambling corpses turned their heads, turned, and sprinted towards the fountain. She raised an eyebrow in perplexity, but kept her barrel trained, ready for anything. She watched as the shorter soldier stood, running into the zombies, and stabbing one on either sword, dragging them with him. She spat beside her. She growled quietly, trying to find a better shot. Quickly, she realized that the girl hiding behind the fountain had jumped into the building behind her. Never mind that. The girl was the least of her concerns. She followed the running soldier with the barrel of her gun, and growled as he got into the heavily overgrown building about 70 meters to the northwest. When he emerged, all the zombies he had attracted were piled on him, and he moved slowly. She fired a shot, but it only got stuck in the flesh of one of his meat shields. She frowned. They were certainly clever, if nothing else.

Carter, in the meanwhile, dragged hard to try and get the corpses and himself closer to the sniper. Unfortunately, the house he had killed them in was on an island, and the center of both bridges to and from it were out. He couldn't carry them all over a full meter gap. At the gap in the bridge, he sat for a moment, and jumped, carrying one corpse with him, and using it to take the incoming fire from the roof of the building. He dove to the west wall of the church. _Alright, John, what now…?_

"John, I'm at the church, about 15 meters north of our target. I'm pinned. What now?"

John gave a quiet profanity, and stood again, heaving himself up onto the roof again, remaining out of sight of the sniper. He nocked yet another arrow, and fired it in the sniper's direction, and repeated this.

"I'll hold her attention. You don't have long. I'll run out of arrows."

Carter watched the first arrow get shot out of the air, and took a deep breath, crawling into the church through some overgrowth, and using it as cover to get closer to the sniper. From the door of the church, he saw a set of vines that allows a relatively safe access to the roof. _That must be how she got up._

As she shot another arrow out of the sky, the sniper began to back away. She couldn't really see the one shooting at her, and it was impossible to ricochet anything to that side of the roof. She crawled up to her knees, reading to make a fast escape, but then felt a cold piece of metal against her throat. Carter held the second sword off to the side, ready to swing if necessary.

"Drop the gun."

She did as ordered, casting her small rifle a little ways away.

"Take off your hood."

She once again followed the instruction, revealing her sandy blond hair, with a black tie around the back to make a tail that went back into her cloak.

"Stand up, and go down the way you came up. No trouble. Just head down." He touched his earpiece, "I've got her, John. She's compliant. I'll meet you at the fountain."

In a few moments, John had removed the bullet and was washing out the wound in the bowl of the fountain, waiting for Carter to bring the culprit over to them. He looked over to the building behind him, and half-called, "Katrina, you can come out now."

Her head was quickly visible through the hole she had dived through, "Are you sure?"

John gave a small chuckle. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Carter and the sniper were over in a relatively brief time, while Katrina clambered softly back through the hole. John stood when she arrived, walking with a slight limp to stand in front of her. She was about the same height as Carter, if slightly shorter, and wore a black scarf around her neck, which came down to cover the left side of her chest. She wore a brown cloak that looked incredibly similar to the ones John and Carter wore, with a knee-length black dress barely visible under that. She had rather emotionless green eyes and two earrings on her left ear. She looked up at John uncaringly. John extended his hand forward, and moved the scarf away from its resting place on her chest, to reveal a white triangle with a single white pin under it.

"I thought so. State name, rank, and station." He held up his left fist, ninety degree angle at the elbow.

She looked away, "None, sir. No name, rank, or station."

Carter's sword returned to her throat, "Your superior asked you a question. Name, rank, and station."

Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, and her chin went up, away from the glinting metal. "Corporal Shaun Menniger, previously stationed at Yawpton."

"Why'd you leave, corporal?"

Her nostrils flared more, and she didn't respond.

"Corporal!"

"Desertion, sir."

Carter lowered the sword, and looked at John, then back at the corporal. John lowered his fist and his hood. The sniper brushed some hair from her right eye to see his face better, and then turned away quickly.

"Shaun, you were the best anybody had. What are you doing here?"

She looked down at the gravel to her left shamefully. John tilted her head back up to look at him with two fingers under her chin, with what may be considerable as gentleness, though was certainly stern.

"Banditry, sir. I deserted before the firearm relocation occurred, which gave me a distinct advantage over those who had either had their firearms taken away, or had never had firearms in the first place."

He let her go, and she immediately returned to looking at the ground. Carter looked at John with a wrist pressing on his hip, a sword still in each hand. "What do we do with her?"

"Take her back to Grimdale. She'll have to face a military tribunal."

"She'll probably be executed."

"I doubt it. We can't afford to lose a soldier like her. Go and find her gun, and bring it back. I don't think she'll make any trouble now."

Carter gave a quick nod, and headed towards the building she had discarded her gun on.

"You trust me already, sir?"

"I trust that you understand that your survival is now hinged with ours. You're a good soldier, Shaun. I expect you to prove it."

As Carter crawled up the vines, he tapped his earpiece. "She's going to want to know, when she opens up."

"I know."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know."

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**What do you think? Questions, comments, criticisms, please review and tell me what you're thinking!**


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